


Jasmine

by geewritessometimes



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Gen, Pre-Canon, Pre-Star Wars: The Force Awakens, Stormtrooper Culture, Stormtrooper Finn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:27:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21804445
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geewritessometimes/pseuds/geewritessometimes
Summary: FN-2187 accidentally sees part of a romance holovid requisitioned from a captured Resistance ship. It makes him wonder what love is.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 15
Collections: Finn Centric Recommendations





	Jasmine

**Author's Note:**

> Can you have headcanons for your own writing? Cuz if so, I totally think those two troopers playing the holo are a couple. 
> 
> Music recommendation: Soke and Dangote, both by Burna Boy

It was by pure happenstance that FN-2187 saw the holo. 

He’d been cleaning one of the acquisition rooms on the  _ Finalizer _ at the same time as two troopers from another squad were sorting through the junk they’d stripped from a Resistance ship that had been intercepted three days prior. FN-2187 didn’t see the point of cleaning the room as two other people simultaneously dirtied it again, but orders were orders, and so he did his duty. He kept to the consoles and implements on the fringes of the circular chamber, leaving the other two troopers to their shenanigans at the display table in the center, eavesdropping as he shined the screens and keypads. He sometimes thought his own squad rambunctious and disobedient, but listening to these two giggle and mess around like a couple of children made the guys in his unit look like well-behaved saints. He was almost certain that these guys belonged to a unit not administered by Phasma. If they did, they’d be in reconditioning within a week, no doubt. 

He trained his eyes on the scanner he was polishing, while craning his neck a bit to catch their chatter.

“Oh ho, look at  _ this! _ ” 

“No way!” 

FN-2187 heard some jingling, and then the sound of something being dumped onto the table. He snuck a peek: the two troopers had upended a bag and emptied what looked like at least 50,000 credits worth of chips onto the table. His eyes widened, and he quickly looked back down at the scanner. He could already guess what was going to happen next. 

“We’re  _ rich,  _ Zero!”

“Shh!”

“Oh come on, who’s he gonna tell?” 

More jingling. FN-2187 peeked again. They were both stuffing credits into their black underlayers- in the neck guard, in the waistband, anywhere there was space. 

“Can you tell?” one of them asked the other. 

“Hmm, no. What about me?” 

“Nope. Wait. I can kinda see that one on your elbow. Here, I’ll fix it.” 

More rustling. They kept rummaging through the junk, tossing whatever they deemed unimportant into the bin at the side of the table. The scanner FN-2187 had been cleaning repetitively for the past ten minutes was going to be the cleanest scanner on the whole damn ship. More gasping and laughing made him look up again. 

“No  _ way,  _ this is too funny!” 

“Play it! Play it!” 

They were holding a holo disc with all four of their hands, practically vibrating with glee. They rushed over to one of the consoles at FN-2187’s right and put the disc in. FN-2187 inhaled sharply and froze. Watching holos of any kind, especially ones not issued by the First Order, was strictly forbidden. Watching a holo from off a Resistance ship was practically unthinkable. FN-2187 felt dread and fear crawling in his stomach, and began to sweat. What if someone walked in and caught them? He’d get in trouble too just for being a bystander. Phasma would whoop his ass at the very best, and at worst he’d be sent to reconditioning. Unsure of what to do and stiff with anxiety, he trained his eyes on the floor so that he couldn’t see the screen and stopped cleaning altogether. But he could still hear. 

The holo started in the middle of a scene, probably wherever it had last been paused. He could hear two male voices speaking to each other in Standard. Soft music was playing in the background, unlike anything he had ever heard. It was so strangely soothing, so beautiful, so different from the thunderous marching music they played during drills, that it lulled him into an abrupt sense of peace and he briefly forgot about his worries. Timidly, he looked up from staring at his feet and stared at the screen instead. The other two troopers had gone so far as to take their helmets off and were watching with wide eyes. FN-2187 felt a sudden sense of camaraderie with them, despite the fact that they were gambling with all three of their lives at that moment: they looked just as awestruck as he felt. 

On the screen, one of the men reached out and touched the cheek of his companion. They were standing in the middle of a field of grass so green that FN-2187 could hardly believe it was real. In the grass were little white flowers, gently drifting back and forth in the gentle breeze. He’d never seen anything like it, in all his life. He’d heard about grass and flowers before, of course, had even seen some trees on Starkiller Base, but he’d only ever seen pictures. He’d certainly never seen videos. He was so dazzled that he almost didn’t notice what the two men were doing. Almost. 

One of them, the one who’d touched the other’s cheek, stepped forward and placed both hands on his partner’s waist. Then he leaned in and pressed their lips together. The music swelled, and FN-2187’s eyes widened to the point where he worried they might pop out of his head. His heart rate doubled in speed. 

The other two troopers squealed and began laughing and shoving each other. FN-2187 paid them no mind, so entranced was he by what was happening on the screen. The two men separated, but still held each other close. The setting sun was shining behind them, casting them in shadow as they rested their foreheads together. 

“I love you. I wish I had told you earlier.” 

“I already knew.” 

They kissed again.

“I love you, too.”

FN-2187 let out a sharp exhale, turned around, and began power-walking to the door. He couldn’t watch any more, because his heart was suddenly hurting and he felt like crying. The giggles of the other two troopers ceased immediately and they shut off the holo, but FN-2187 was already gone. He felt bad; they probably thought he was running off to tattle to a supervisor. He wasn’t. He just wanted to be alone. His head was swimming. 

He made it back to the cell block, and thankfully, the rest of his squad was out. He sat on his bunk, yanked his helmet off, and placed his head in his hands. He wouldn’t cry. He wouldn’t tempt fate anymore today. No more weakness or disobedience. 

Was that what the world out there looked like? It wasn’t anything like what Phasma or Hux said it was. Were there really fields of grass like that? Flowers? What would it be like to see a real sunset? What would it be like… to kiss someone? To love someone? 

He almost never heard the word ‘love’ on the  _ Finalizer,  _ and only ever in a negative context.  _ The Resistance  _ loves _ to lie to the galaxy, Leia Organa  _ loves _ to kill children.  _ Never in his life had he ever heard anyone say to another person,  _ I love you.  _ What did that even mean? There were some troopers in his unit that he’d known since they were kids, and when he thought about being separated from them, it made his heart hurt. Was that love? Would he kiss them if he was allowed? No, probably not. Did you have to kiss someone if you loved them? He wasn’t sure. 

What if someday that was him? What if someday he could stand in a field of flowers at sunset and hold someone in his arms and kiss him? Maybe someone with dark curly hair, and a kind smile, warm like a furnace. He imagined being in love. What would it be like? He’d want to hold him, and protect him. He’d heard that some of the superior officers were ‘married’, and had families on other planets. Maybe he could have that. Maybe he could get married someday, and have children to take care of and love. He closed his eyes and pictured it. What would their house look like? Where would it be? What would he do, if he wasn’t a stormtrooper? Who would his spouse be? What would  _ he  _ do? He’d be the best father. He’d teach his kids how to shoot blasters, and how to clean the floor really well, how to make their beds, and how to take out the trash. He’d put them to bed in the evening, and then dance with his spouse to soft, pretty music in their living room.

The door whirring open had him jumping to his feet. It was Phasma.

“FN-2187. Have you finished your assignment?” 

He threw his helmet back on and saluted. “Yes, Captain.”

“Then report to drill.”

“Yes, Captain.”

As he marched down the hall to the drill arena, he shook his head. He was so dumb, getting all worked up over some holo. Probably just Resistance propaganda, like Phasma always said. What a silly idea, thinking he’d ever fall in love or get married or have children someday. No, he was a good soldier, and he’d stop entertaining such illogical nonsense. 

Still, that night, he dreamed of resting his forehead against another in a field of flowers, and being full of love. 


End file.
